


Dream Bubbles

by dirkrika



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:14:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirkrika/pseuds/dirkrika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, you like to look at life like’s it’s one of your ridiculous romantic comedies. Like there is such a thing as ‘happily ever after’ and that the princess always does get the prince and that everything is perfect wonderful. It makes the world seem less dreary, in your eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream Bubbles

Sometimes, you like to look at life like’s it’s one of your ridiculous romantic comedies. It—for some unknown reason—makes the troubling world seem a bit better. Like there is such a thing as ‘happily ever after’ and that the princess always does get the prince and that everything is perfect wonderful. It makes the world seem less dreary, in your eyes.

Dream bubbles come and go as they please and you really can’t control how they’ll end up working out. You always hope, when you arrive in one that he’s there, waiting for you like a knight in a stupid red sweater. He rarely ever is, though. Sometimes, you’ll get brief memories of your past, like when you witnessed Eridan killing Feferi and Kanaya and blinding Sollux. Sometimes, you’ll get memories of your friends’. The bubbles just never seem to want you to see your matesprit, though.

You remember when you first met up with Kankri. You—at first—wanted to rip your hair out of your head and scream. The boy just _wouldn’t stop talking_. All he ever did was drone on and on about Beforus and Alternia and the compare-contrasts of the hemospectrum/hemophobic society. It was a blinding wall of red, his mouth moving like a motor. When he finally gave you a small chance to speak, all you could muster out was a, “You’re crazy.” That, in turn, sported a whole new rant about possible trigger options that could be implied there. (You’re not sure how saying “you’re crazy” could hint any signs of black romance, but apparently, it was triggering to Kankri.)

The first time you kissed him was a whole other story. You were, for once, looking for him. You’re not quite sure when these feelings for your idiotic mini-cestor bloomed, but you would always feel yourself getting nervous whenever he’d look at you during one of his speeches or when he’d gently touch your shoulder—after asking, of course. It was always the little things that drove you over the barrel. Onto the kissing topic, you were looking for Kankri and asking around if anyone had seen him. No one had seen him that whole day and thought you had lost your think pan when you asked about him. (“Oh my cod Shouty, why would you even swimmingly talk to _that_ loser?” You told her that swimmingly and willingly were nothing alike, but she just laughed and walked away. Meenah was obviously no help.)

When you literally ran into him near Terezi’s hive, he immediately started the conversation with an apology if his bumping into you frightened you at any length. Hngh. _He is so adorable like that_ was all that was on your mind. You knew that the more you let Kankri rant, the less time you would have to initiate any sort of red feelings confessions toward him. The entire time he was talking, you were staring at his lips, soft-looking and weirdly full. They looked so goddamn kissable that you couldn’t take it anymore. You just whispered a, “Trigger warning,” and kissed him right on the mouth.

Of course, that little slip didn’t come without consequences, like Kankri shouting at you and immediately apologizing (though not as sincerely) when seeing the dejected look on your face. He also ignored you for a whole week and you ended up locking yourself in your dream bubble hive, hoping that the bubble would disappear sometime soon and you would be on the stupid fucking meteor you call home. But when he rapped on the door one day and told you that he was willing to give it a try as long as there was nothing sexual about the relationship (which bugged you, but you can deal), you leaned up and latched your lips to his.

The rest, if you could say, is history.

At least, until the wonderful dream bubble ended, and you were sent back to the meteor, where you refused to talk to anyone due to not being able to see your matesprit. Anytime someone tried talking to you, you yelled at them to go jump in a crater. It’s painful, not having Kankri with you. There’s no one to cuddle in a pile with anymore and there’s no one to watch romcoms and kiss and eat terrible captchalogued popcorn with. There’s no one to hug you and rant to you about how society is fucked up, making you fall asleep in his arms. There’s no one there for you except yourself, and it hurts. It hurts a fuck lot.

~*~

You open your eyes and immediately close them. _Fuck_. Where were you? This wasn’t your respite block on the meteor. You don’t even know _where_ this is. It’s so bright, though, and your eyes are watering from behind your lids. You feel around for some clue as to what is going on, when you fall off whatever you were sitting on. You curse at the pain and move into a sitting position. Once your eyes adjust to the light, you open them slowly and gasp quietly.

This room is so familiar, with barren grey walls and an old human recuperacoon—“bed” as Rose calls them—in the middle. There are no windows from what you can see, just like always. And there’s a door right across from the bed. You almost want to cry. You’re not sure if from happiness or pain.

This room was one of the many rooms you and Kankri resided in during your time in the dream bubble so long ago. This was the room that you cuddled and watched movies in together. This was always your favorite room, too. It had the most privacy and was more away from the idiots you call friends.

You reach for the handle to the door and turn it slowly. It still creaks… Heh. You walk through the doorway and see… a room you don’t recognize. It seems to be just a generic human living room, with a small loveseat, television, and table that is littered with papers with scribbles on them, written in red ink. You slowly walk toward the notes and pick them up. You nearly drop the papers when you recognize your matesprit’s handwriting on the pages. It’s his usual messy, scrawled font and in his stupid quirk, too.

Your hopes bloom. _Does this mean he’s here? Have I finally found him? Will I finally be able to be with him again? God, please let it be so._

There seems to be no other rooms besides those two in the… whatever you call it, so you just stand there, reading Kankri’s notes with anticipation. They’re all about… you. Well, a good amount of them are. They’re just… ranting. Your heart melts as you read the third page of his notes.

_I still have yet t9 c9me in c9ntact with Karkat. It has 6een at least a sweep since we last sp9ke t9 each 9ther, and frankly, I am dying inside. I kn9w it is against my m9rals and everything I teach t9 6e in any s9rt 9f relati9nship, 6ut it seems that I cann9t help myself. I am getting t9 the p9int 9f desperati9n and I’m alm9st l9sing h9pe. What if he is dead? I w9uld never kn9w. I just… It seems that I have c9me in c9ntact with this human disease called “l9ve.”_

Love?

Before you can question anything else, the door to the room you appeared in opens, and there he stands, red sweater and all.

God, you had forgotten what he looks like, with his slender figure and unruly and curly hair. His white, lifeless eyes are sunken in and he looks like death. He seems… tired. And lost, like he’s given up. You breathe in a sharp intake of breath. “Kankri,” you whisper.

He immediately looks in your direction and then at the paper in your hands. He looks back up at your face, like he’s examining you like you’re a ghost or figment of his imagination. When you smile softly, he whimpers out with wide eyes, “Karkat?”

Your small smile widens. “Hey.”

You can see small, pink tears poking at his eyes. “Dear anyone’s God, let this not be a dream.”

That’s when you run toward him and sweep him up in a hug, not caring about his sputtering of surprise of the fact that this probably triggers and embarrasses him to no end. You’re holding him tightly and pressing your nose into the crook of his neck. He’s still way taller than you, but you don’t even care. You can feel tears dropping into your neck and soon enough, your hug is returned.

“Thank Jesus,” you whisper. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Kankri shudders out a sob and cries, “I missed you so much, Karkat I—”

You interrupt him by pulling away and cupping his cheeks. Tears are staining his cheeks and he’s sniffling. You look into his lifeless eyes and smile. “I know. I love you too.”

“I love you so much.”

Then you kiss him, more passionately than you ever have before. He’s gripping onto tightly like is he’d let you, you’d disappear. He doesn’t seem to care that you are ravishing his mouth like you’ve been starving for it, which you have. He doesn’t seem to care when you lightly push him onto the loveseat and crawl on top of him. He doesn’t care when you discard of his sweater and trace every scar and bruise on his body with your index finger, before kissing along each one. He doesn’t seem to mind when you kiss up and down his neck, he actually encourages it more with whimpers and moans of your name and, “Yes. I love you, I love you so much.”

And you certainly don’t care when he does the same to you, except far more slowly. It’s the most intimate thing you’ve ever experienced with him, and you’re so glad it’s happening.

You see stars as Kankri shamelessly ravishes you, dragging his tongue up your torso and kissing the faded scar that Jack once gave you. You see only him when you both retreat to the bedroom you once shared. You see fireworks when he kisses up your thighs and then your nook. Your heart stops out of the sheer pain of love when he doesn’t stop whispering inaudible words in your ear that are meant for you, and only you.

In the end, you both know the feeling of having each other is going to end, but in the mean time, there’s plenty of time to catch up on a sweep’s worth of not seeing each other.

**Author's Note:**

> This is also posted on my Tumblr:  
> http://dirkrika.tumblr.com/


End file.
